


I'm Afraid Of The Dark

by Fuhlair



Category: World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fight Club Fusion, Angst, Complex Supporting Characters, Dark Past, Developing Friendships, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, False Accusations, Fight Club - Freeform, Flashbacks, Gun Violence, Illegal Activities, Love/Hate, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mild Sexual Content, Parenthood, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prison, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-14
Updated: 2019-02-14
Packaged: 2019-10-27 22:04:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17775044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fuhlair/pseuds/Fuhlair
Summary: [book 1/2]"Seth Rollins ruined my life.""Dean Ambrose is the only one here worthy of being in the fight circle with me. He is the only one I was to see spit blood."Seth Rollins and Dean Ambrose were the biggest rivals in fight club. They always put on the best fights with the most bloodshed. They were top tier fighters who seemed to only be interested in hurting eachother.





	1. Man Of The Hour

The sweaty aroma of the worn down warehouse was something Dean was used to. It was just another fight night to him; just another night of feeding his daughter. His appointment should be here any minute. Roman was already wrapping up his fists in bandages, knowing Dean bled easily. Dean was anxious to see him, even if the thought of him made him sick. He loved hurting him, and couldn't wait to do it again once every fight was over. 

The dimly lit warehouse seemed to light up with enthusiasm when the door creaked open to reveal a long haired brunette. Seth Rollins was finally here. Dean's chest filled with dry anger and bitterness as he glanced over to him, other men in the club rushing to swarm around their most popular competitor. 

"Alright, dude. You're guy's here." Roman patted Dean on the back before walking away, probably to go call his wife to confirm he was okay. Dean knew how paranoid Galina got when her husband was out late. 

Dean huffed and and stood up from the crate he sat himself on and blew a whistle from between his teeth, signaling to the others that it was time to start. The men circled around him, Seth pushing through the pile to get to the middle where Dean stood. The whole club knew by now how this went. They only ever fought each other. Neither man showing any interest in making any other man in the club spot blood. They'd always had this bad blood neither could ever shake. They only ever spoke while fighting. It made the men curious, but no one was brave enough to ask why. 

The sound of the bell ringing was the beginning of the end. Rollins got in the first punch to Dean's gut before he even realized what was going on, but the feeling of the blow was enough to put Dean in the right mindset. Dean was quick with his fist, delivering blow after blow to his ribs, getting slightly higher with each hit. Seth hunched over for a moment before tackling the dirty blonde to the floor. 

He climbs on top of him and began to beat down on his face, luckily Dean's arms took most of the damage in protecting him. The men hooted and hollered at the scene even if they'd seen it before. It was a fight that never got old. They were meant to fight forever. None of their fights would ever be boring. They just knew it, no need for debate. 

"I got $65 on the tattooed one." A large man commented from the back. He was a man no one in the club had seen before. One of the clubs most popular betters, Sami, was nervous at the appearance of the new guy. He suspected that he might be police, but he didn't seem like it. He was huge and dressed in dirtied clothes and old construction boots. He wore a smile on his face, though most of his beard covered it. 

"Who're you, tough guy?" He nudged him, trying to be friendly but the monster of a man wasn't amused at his attempts. He shoves him away with the force of a truck, causing him to fall and hit his head on the concrete pillar behind him. 

"Don't touch me, little man" His thick southern accent slurred at the ginger on the floor before turning his attention back to the fight. By now both Dean and Seth were bleeding, both in different places. Dean from the nose and chin, Seth from the ribs and hands. Despite injury, the didn't relent. They couldn't. Money aside, they both could never stop till one was unable to move let alone stand before the count was up. They found anger and release in one another. It was therapy and hell. 

"Get up bitch." Dean whispered to the man on his knees in front of him who was clutching his stomach. He tossed his head in his hands like a ball, amusing the onlookers. The new guy scoffs in the back and looks on. He was watching his man lose, and for him 65 dollars was too much to lose. 

"Get up Rollins!" He yelled from the back, Seth probably not even hearing him over the other hecklers and chants from the compact crowd. The fight continues and the big man was still confident in his choice. Seth showed good skill through the rest of the match, but Dean was smart. The fight eventually ended by a quick swipe of his knee, which had been injured relatively recently. Seth stood no chance of getting up for 5 minutes, let alone in time for the count of ten. Dean had won, and Seth wasn't the only disapointed one in the building. 

Dean was the man of the hour. But only that hour. More men would fight, more betting would take place, and more money was put into the competitor's bags. The glory didn't last long, but it's not like he minded. Dean was there for the rush taking and delivering punches gave him. The money was an after effect of his talent, and his talent is what payed the bills. 

"Hey, Dean. Someone's lookin for ya." He felt a tap on his shoulder, and immediately looked over to see his daughter standing at the entrance of the warehouse. Her eyes are narrowed and her arms were crossed over her chest. She was horrified and displeased to see her father here again. He decides to walk over to her, knowing the lecture he was going to get get from her. 

"Hey sweet pea-"

"Shut up." She said sternly, looking up at her battered father. Dean just rolled his eyes, waiting for her to start complaining at any second. 

"This doesn't look like 'overtime at the office' to me" she added a little more harshly this time. Dean did feel bad for lying to her, all she wanted was for him to be safe. She was the only one in the world that actually cared about his safety, and he felt awful for going behind her back and dismantling her trust the way he did almost every week. 

"Look I-" He tried to say before being interrupted once again. 

"I don't want to hear it. You're coming home with me. Right. Now." She grabbed his arm and pulled him out of the complex. They both walk home in complete and utter silence.


	2. Safety Net

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deals with mentions of miscarriage

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "•••" stands for the beginning and end of flashbacks

•••  
The hospital room was roaring with anticipation, waiting for the arrival of the new Ambrose family member. Renee decided she didn't want to know the sex of the baby, and Dean was anxious to see his baby boy/girl pop into the world. He knew he would be a great dad. He was clean ever since his 24th birthday and his wife had successfully turned him into the family man he always wanted to be. All he ever wanted was to be a father; a better father than his. 

But this wasn't a normal birth. Just a year earlier, Dean and Renee were in this same hospital anticipating the same thing they are today, but to their misfortune, the baby was born unresponsive. Only 6 days later, they had to bury their son who hadn't made it past the birth stage. And to think all of this happened after 3 years of miscarriages and no luck of conceiving otherwise. Though Dean was excited and hopeful, he still had to mentally prepare himself for the worst. What happened to his son. 

Whatever the nurses said was a blur, all he could do was watch as a tiny baby pushed and nuzzled it's way out of his wife. He didn't even care about the awful pain he had from his wife's intense squeezing, all he cared about was his wife and the child that was going to complete their family at last. 

"It's a girl!" Cried the nurse, and Dean might as well have too. The baby came out screaming, but it was the most beautiful sound he'd heard in his life. Yet nothing compared to when he looked at her for the first time. She had sparkling brown eyes and the blondest hair he had ever seen. She was an image of perfection. 

"What do you want to name her, my love?" He asked, cuddling up to his tired wife. 

"I like the name Nicolette." She said softly. He didn't need a moments thought to agree. Once he said the name, he knew it was perfect. It was perfect because his wife thought it was, and he knew she knew all about perfection. 

"Yes!" He chuckled before kissing his newborn on the head. 

"Nicolette is just amazing, beautiful. Just like you" He added, this time, his kiss landing on Renee's lips.  
•••

He thought about that night the whole walk home. Nicolette trailing angrily in front of him. A lot has changed since then. She wasn't that sweet pure soul that she was the day she was born and he wasn't the happy-go-lucky father he used to be. They both were grumpier and older than before, and not all of it was to blame of getting older. 

Their apartment wasn't very far from the warehouse so they were there in only a matter of minutes. Still, neither of them said a word to each other. It was like they were afraid to speak. It was an awkward silence that could probably be felt for miles. 

The rest of the night was spent separately. Dean watched wrestling in the living room while Nicolette went into her room to do homework. This wasn't uncommon of them. There relationship has been strained for 2 years, and that strain is hard to break especially since she's a teenager. We all know how tough it is to fix a relationship with a teenager. Deep down, she was still his little girl. He loved her so much more than he ever did himself. Maybe that's why he would put himself in danger for the well being of his daughter. 

I mean, she was all he had left of a family. 

And that fact alone made him wonder if he should cry tears of sadness or gratefulness. 

•  
•  
•

"Seth!" Sami yelled over to the brunette. Seth wasn't exactly in the mood for conversation at the moment, but he never knew how to say no to Sami. He was his only friend after all. He was the only one the believed him when he was wrongly sent to prison. All of his other "friends" turned on him, and understandably so. No one would want to be friends with a criminal, let alone one who lies about it too. 

"Yes, Sam?" He said quickly, throwing his towel over his shoulder. The ginger sighed and motioned his head towards a giant man. 

"Who're you?" He asked, completely unintimidated by him despite his size. The man let out a brief huffy of amusement before crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Name's Braun. I'm your highest bidder of the night." 

"Must suck for you to lose that money, I guess." He shrugged, not really knowing what else to say. He turns around to his bag, not really thinking the big man had much else to say. That was until he felt a big hand push him to the ground. 

"What the hell?" Sami yelled as Braun grabbed Seth by the armpits and made him stare into his angry eyes. 

"I'll be betting on you next week, and if I lose again, you won't live to see another fight." He spat, pulling a knife from his pant's pocket. Seth nodded and pushed to man away, this time hiding his intimidation. 

This wasn't the first time someone like Braun. This business was dangerous, more so because it's illegal. They were already breaking the law, so why not break it a little more. They couldn't protect themselves because no one would be there to. No authority could save them because the authority hated them. He's seen threats like this before, just not like Braun's. 

"You okay?" Sami said, reaching his hand out to help his friend up. Seth took it happily and gave him a quick hug, heading away to leave after. 

On his way home, he thought of how he could guarantee that he would win next week. Not many options that went through his mind would satisfy him. One idea did pass him. He really didn't want to do what he had in mind, but there weren't many options at all.


	3. The Cost Of Safety

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seth makes a Deal with Dean to assure his victory. This, of course, comes with a price.

The week passed like a bullet, and before he knew it, it was already fight night. Seth was for the first time nervous to see Dean, which felt incredibly odd. Whenever he would see him he would only have a sinking feeling in his gut that told him to fight. It was like the man normal turned on his fight or flight response. Not this time, no, this was worse. 

He felt scared of him. 

Alas, he faced his fear and once entering the building, all eyes fell on him while he sauntered over to the shaggy haired man. Dean didn't seem to even notice he was there, so Seth gave him the friendliest shoulder tap he could. He couldn't stand this part. The "waiting for him to respond" part. It only gave him time to regret this but know he couldn't back out now. Somehow he was more afraid of this proposition than he was for any of their fights. 

"What do you want?" Dean asked with obvious disdain on his face. Seth swallows dryly before sighing. 

"I got an offer for you." He said before grabbing him by the shirt and dragging him off to a remote area of the warehouse. Somehow, Dean puts up next to no fight. 

"What exactly do you-" Dean began to say before Seth covered his lip with his hand, keeping his head still by holding the back of his head. 

"Shhhh!" Seth shushed him quite aggressively, pulling him farther into the shadows. Dean this time fights back, trying to push him off. Seth stumbles back just a bit but manages to grab him just before he was about to leave. 

"Wait! I have a situation." He sighed, finally allowing his tough exterior fade into nothing but a soft frown and limp shoulders. He radiated helpless at this moment, something Dean never saw in him. 

"And why should I help you?" He asked, wearing disgust like a sleeve of tattoos. 

"I need to win tonight. If I dont I might be dead by next week..." Seth said, exasperated. Dean eyes the man and crossed his arms. He didn't quite know how this involved him. Why would Dean care what is going on with Seth? He couldn't care less about the man, let alone allow him to win. But maybe he could get something out of the man's desperation. 

"What's in it for me?"

"The pleasure of continuing to be able to fight me." Seth grew impatient, but Dean kept his cool and let out a low growl under his breath. 

"I ain't wanna do nothing for a crooked guy like you. I don't like you, let alone have the energy to agree to whatever bullshit you need me to do." Dean complained, his resting bitch face growing more into an uncomfortable stare. 

"Fine!" Seth gave in. 

"What do you want?" 

"I'll show you after I'm finished with you, you little bitch." Dean whispered in his ear before sauntering off with his typical effortless swagger radiating off him. 

They came back, both going over to their respective groups. The scene tonight almost resembled an only wrestling match with two destined fighters in each corner. The only difference was there was no ring, ref, or rules. This was all about beating someone up to ungodly amounts until they couldn't beat a count. That was the game. Their game. 

Seth shoots Ambrose a reluctantly trusting glare, which the other man responds to with a wink. Just moments after, the fight commences. 

Almost immediately, Dean is sent to the floor, hitting his head on the concrete. Seth battered down fists like it was nothing, letting his anxiety turn to his usual hatred for the man. Dean eventually manages to knock the man off him with an elbow to the ribs. Now this time, Dean pins Seth's hands down to the floor, the blood from his face dripping onto Seth's long hair and sweaty face.

"I thought you were supposed to let me win!" Seth heaved through saliva that piled in his mouth before quickly swallowing. Dean smiles and slaps his face harshly, grabbing his face in that same hand afterward. 

"I am, but this is just fun." He chuckled, punching the man below him in the gut soon after the words spilled from between his teeth. Seth winced in pain and clutched his stomach. Dean rose to his feet, kicking and stomping on his injured body, it was barely enough for Seth to handle. When he tried to stand, he couldn't. Either Dean was unaware of his power or he wasn't willing to give up his winning money tonight. 

The count of ten came sooner than Seth had anticipated and it took him several moments to process that he'd lost. Looking up at the winner, he saw guilty, but overall satisfaction on his face. Now all he could think about was how fucked he was. 100% totally fucked. 

Looking around, he couldn't find Braun. He could only see the faint vision of men surrounding him and Dean walking away and out of sight. His eyesight was so wonky that he didn't even notice the screams of the guys around him....or the man with a gun behind him.

Sami couldn't look on any longer. Just as the first bullet escaped the barrel, the hunger already pulled his friend to safety. The burley man only grew angrier as this turned to a wild goose chase for him to put a bullet through his losing man. He ran like a mad man, injuring innocent men as he searched for the man he needed. Sami already managed to get him outside and away from the trouble. Hearing the gunshots ring in his ears made him want to claw off his skin or slam his head until he couldn't hear it anymore over his own screams. Sami couldn't stand the sound of gunshots, but Seth never knew why. All he knew was that once both were out of distance of Braun, he broke down. Rocking back and forth in the alleyway whispering to himself that it would be okay. 

Seth didn't know what to do. He could barely move from his corner he had been sat in due to the pain in his ribs. He felt helpless to comforting him.

Foot steps get hauntingly close: scaring Seth out of his socks, Sami not noticing. Terror of Braun approaching grew in the deepest pit of his stomach like a tumor. If the armed man didn't kill him, his heart rate would. It felt like it could beat out of his chest. 

The sound turns around the corner revealing a blood covered Ambrose and Braun's gun in his hand. He seemed breathless and only looked at the men for a moment before scoffing and turning the other way. Leaving and with seemingly no return. 

No one really knows where he went that night, but he wasn't seen again until September, nearly 6 months later.


	4. Penance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean is having mood swings and Seth is having a hard time recovering from the night Braun tried to kill him.

"Dad, I want to go out." Nicolette said, rushing past him and grabbing the bottle of rum from his hand. Dean doesn't do much to stop her, even when she takes a swig of her own. Would be hypocritical for him to stop her when he would drink a lot more than her at her age. He just huffed abd looked away, not wanting to see her doing it. 

"With who?" 

"You..." She whispered, setting the bottle down on the dirty counter behind her. She walked over to him and sat beside him at the kitchen table, grabbing his hand. He could practically feel his heart warming with a feeling he hadn't felt in years. 

He can't remember the last time she even wanted to have a full conversation with him, let alone go out with him. It gave him joy to hear her say it. 

"O-Okay Nik." He stuttered slightly. 

"Where do you wanna go?" He continued, smiling stupidly but hinting it under his free hand. She sighs a bit before showing him her phone. 

"It's a new amusement park that opened last week. I wanted to go with my friends but they couldn't take me when they went so I want to go with you." She pursed her lips and glanced up at him. 

"So I'm just the second option?" 

"You know I didn't mean it like that-" Nicolette frowned and rolled her eyes. Still, Dean didn't think he could shake the feeling. She could have at least lied; it would have been easier on his ego.

"No no. It's okay. Don't you have any other friends to take out?"

"Yeah."

"Go out with them. Leave your old man 'lone." He got up from his seat and stomped off towards his bedroom. His face was already hot with anger he couldn't explain. Everything around him seemed to be mocking him as he walked through the halls. The photos of him smiling taunted him, the memories flooded in with no remorse. The attack pushed him, and soon, glass broke onto the floor and his frames were ruined. A sense of relief and remorse flashed through his mind, but only for a moment. He couldn't even process what he'd done, let alone know why he'd done it in the first place. All he could do was shake in a fit of unnecessary anger. 

-  
-  
-  
That night was still on his mind, he couldn't get it out of his head no matter how hard he tried. The image of Dean holding a gun, bloodied and broken, it made him quiver in a way he couldn't explain. Dean hated him, so why would he save his life? All Braun wanted was him, he had no reason to kill him in cold blood the way he did. But it happened, and with no rhyme or reason to it. The worst part was, Seth couldn't ask.

Dean was gone, and he has been for 6 months.

He wouldn't say he missed Dean, though. Their history was still far too dark and present in Seth's mind. He would never miss him. Dean would never not be the monster he was before, the only difference now is a kill streak. 

Pacing, he grabs his hair and looks over to the mirror by his bedroom door. He was haggard and dirty, the evidence of trauma written all over his body in dirty tears and ragged hair. He looked a mess, and he was. All he really did recently was work and then go home to think. Not even Sami, no matter how hard he tried, could get him out of his shell again. It was just like how it was a few years ago right before he was sentenced. Back when he hated everything around him and could do anything but fume at the thought of what happened. 

"I need to do something..." He sighed, feeling defeated at the man he saw in his reflection. He could nearly feel tears welling up in his eyes. But he knew where he needed to go and what he needed to do. He needed to go to the warehouse.

The run to the empty warehouse left the long haired man a little winded, but it was 4 am and there was no one to distract him. He needed this to feel alright. Maybe to cleanse his mind; his sins. 

He knelt down and looked up to the ceiling, clasping his hands together. He searched for his God, who ever that was. He felt like begging to know why he had been cursed with such a life, but he didn't. He only gave a weak smile left with a whimper. 

"God...I want to offer you penance. I can't tell anyone but you about my sins and how bad they were but I was to feel clean. And if this is the only way, I'll do it." He nodded, giving himself imaginary confirmation before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a swiss army knife from his pocket. 

Swiftly removing his shirt, he hesitates for a moment before placing the tip of the blade to his chest, lightly carving downward. He cried and whimpered, letting the noise ring through his ears as it echoed in the dark. 

His blood trickled down to the floor, making him feel dizzy yet high with a sense of rightness. This was what he had to do, and it was working. He felt less and less guilty as the scar on his chest grew. 

He topples over his own weight, dropping the knife and gasping for air. His vision was blurred and wobbly, like a fun house mirror. 

'Maybe I cut too deep' He thought to himself, watching as his vision went in and out. He knew for certain that he was about to die. He could feel it in every part of his body. Soon, he collapsed on top of his blade, leaving his crucifix shaped scar to bleed on the cooled ground.


	5. A Part Of Me Knew

Seth wakes up in a fit of asthmatic gasping and cold sweats. He was still in the warehouse, but this time, bandages covered his still throbbing scar. His hands had been cleaned by what smelled like hand sanitizer and his pants had been removed to be used as a pillow under his head. The rest of his body felt the exact same, besides the bitter chill of the empty room, of course. 

"What the fuck?" He whispered, slightly out of breath still. Looking around, he rose to his feet clumsily, grabbing his things and putting his clothes back on before rushing out of there as fast as he possibly could. 

Who found him after he passed out and why did they not take him to the hospital? Why did they patch him up and then leave him there? There were so many questions, but no answers. There was no way for him to know either. All he had to do was be grateful to be alive. 

Heading home, he got strange looks from the people of mid day. Seth couldn't blame them, though. Not many people walk down the street clutching their breast bone while sighing heavily due to being out of breath. 

"Hey..." A voice called from behind him. He turns his head seeing the man he'd been thinking about for the past 6 months. Dean Ambrose. 

"The hell you want?" Seth snapped, feeling his muscles contract in pain at the force of his words. They both stand in silence for a moment. It didn't take long for the silence to get to Dean though. Sadly, he didn't know what to say, so he nodded and walked off. 

He didn't know what he wanted. Dean hadn't really known why he greeted his mortal enemy in the first place. Cursing himself silently, he stumbles past Seth and out of sight of the hurt man. 

"Hey" Seth called back, clearly annoyed. Dean sighed and turned on his heels. 

"What?" He whined, stomping his feet on the ground. Seth narrowed his eyes at him judgingly, but Dean didn't care. All he wanted was to get away from him. 

"You're the one that greeted me first." Seth rolled his eyes. 

"So?"

"Dean, why are you here? I thought you left 6 months ago. You really got that hair cut just to stay in Ohio?" He scoffed, looking at the man's shaved head. 

"Maybe I like it here, Seth. Maybe I don't want to ruin the life I already have?" Seth chuckled lightly at his comment, not wanting to say the remark he was currently thinking of. 

"What life is that, Ambrose?" He said calmly and matter of factly, watching as Dean grew more and more frustrated with him. Suddenly it was a game to him; a game to piss off Dean Ambrose. Luckily, he was a champ at this game.

"Like saving your life...twice." He spat, rushing up to Seth and pushing him to the ground, causing some of the bandages to tear. The man had not much to do but look up at him, confused and offended. Dean hadn't saved his life twice; he would barely take one time for an answer. 

"What do you mean twice?"

"I have shit to do other than answer your questions, princess." And with that, Dean officially left. 

"Don't call me that!" Seth yelled to him as he walked away, even if he knew he's not listening. 

-  
-  
-

Seth hadn't been here in a while, he didn't see the point whatsoever. Dean wasn't here, he had no purpose to even be here if the man he wanted to fight wouldn't be available. The only reason he was here tonight was because of his gut. He just knew Dean would be here, he could feel it in every fiber of his being. 

And when you summon the devil, he will always answer. 

Coming in proudly and cockily, the rugged man saunters through the doors with a big grin on his face. Stopping to look down at the dried blood of the night Seth scarred himself. His eyes seemed to automatically gravitate towards Seth like he was his center of gravity. Despite all eyes being on Dean, Dean's eyes were on Seth, and they didn't seem happy. 

Roman walks over to Dean, whispering something into his ear, still his eyes were on the long haired man. His stared made Seth's heart drop farther in his stomach by the second.

But it didn't take long for the fight to be called, forcing both men to the center of the room. Dean circled Seth, looking at the outline of bandaging through his shirt before deciding to set a chop on his chest right where he knew it would hurt most. Seth winced and kicked Dean down to the ground by his stomach, clutching the pained area with his hand. 

The fight went on with Dean exploiting Seth's injury until Seth eventually just forfeit because of the immense pain his had on his breast bone. He had never done that before in a fight. Usually people would see him fight to the end like a true fighter, and that's why people liked him, but he knew he did this to himself and that he has bever been weaker. He couldn't continue and Dean wasn't relenting. He didn't care what the crowd thought because he was too caught up in pain. 

The night went on but Seth couldn't watch, he just wanted to go home to process his defeat. 

He grabs his jacket and leaves into the chill of late September, leaving behind the clambering of the club. It was dead quite in the dead of 1 a.m. Not even a single car passed when he walked down the street. The quiet only made him jump harder when he suddenly heard footsteps behind him.   
Dean walked behind him, looking down at his cellphone, probably not even realizing Seth was there, staring at him. 

"Stop staring, douche. You're creeping me out." Dean commented, not even glancing away from his phone. Dean typed a message and continued walking, snapping Seth back to reality a bit, allowing him to go finish his journey home.  

"I'm not the one who beat the hell out of another man's injury." Seth said, annoyed. 

"I'm not the one who carved a cross in their own chest while praying to a fake God either." Dean laughed looking over to a bewildered man. Seth had stopped in his tracks once more to stare at him, this time staring at him in denial. 

"How do you know about that?" He asked softly, toying with the hem of his shirt nervously. Dean sighed and walked back to Seth, resting a hand on his shoulder and squeezing. 

"Who do you think put those bandages on you, hm?"


	6. Why Do You Care?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey this is more of a filler chapter just to move the story where I need it to be for the next chapter. That's why it's so short. Sorry!

He doesn't really know how be didn't put the dots together.  The eerie fact that Dean just happened to be in the same part of the city as him on the same street, trying his best to escape him. Thinking about it only made him feel uncomprehensively stupid. Like a dodo bird staring at a human for the first time, he felt helplessly lost to why or how he did what he did. 

Dean was a monster, a monster that hated his guts...

"I don't need your help, Ambrose." She shrugged the bald man's hand off him, still looking at him in faked disgust. Though he knew he should hate the sight of his face, right now, he has never felt more grateful to have him in his life, even if his role in his like was overwhelming negative. 

"You seemed pretty needy when you were bleeding unconscious..." He proved a devilish smile on his face and raised an eyebrow. Seth rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over his chest, not wanting to look him in the eyes. Doing so made his stomach sink in a way that he never knew or could describe. It felt wrong and tingley, like a gathering of butterflies were released in his belly. 

"I never need anything." He muttered darkly, clenching his jaw. He nearly wished someone could see his head bolting like a bullet train. Maybe if someone saw what was in his head, they could understand what he was feeling when he was with Dean.

"But you needed me." He grew closer, basically letting the words drop from his tongue like a spoon full of honey. They sent shivers down Seth's spine, making the hairs stand up on his neck while Dean's lips hovered over Seth's ear. By now, the man's face was bound to be cherry red with hints of pink adorning his nose. It all didn't make sense but he liked the way Dean was with him right now. It wasn't aggressive confrontation nor an all out fist fight. It was an argument with Dean more calm than he'd ever seen him. 

"Why do you care?" Seth commented, placing his hand on Dean's chest, preparing to push him away from such close proximity but never following through. Dean only stares closely at him, examining the features with a stiff lip and scorned eyes. 

"You are my mortal enemy. I hate you and you hate me. Why do you care if I hurt myself? Doesn't it bring you joy to think of me dying? You could have let me bleed and suffer but you didn't. Why?" He finally said as if it was what he was trying to say all along. The other man sighed and backs off a little more, but is still very much in Seth's personal space. 

"I'm a father and I already lost one of the things I loved in this world and I can't lose another. I imagine you have people in your life that care for you too. No matter how much I hate you, I could never stand to see anyone die. Plus, what would I do if I didn't beat you up every week?" He said seriously, only lightening his tone when he spoke the final sentence. The sentimental words really got to him and he could feel pools of sadness grow in his eyes. Yet, he remained composed and sighed. 

"I'm gonna go." Seth muttered, walking off down the street. Not a single word was added by either man. Seth only left and Dean just watched him go. Such a mundain sight that held such meaning to both, but no one would ever know that. This night was their own secret that no one would hear. Dean cared, and Seth knew it.


	7. Sober Up, Kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this is the longest chapter of this book so far, but I think it's good????
> 
>  
> 
> Once again, dots mean flashback end/beginning

Seth sits in his bathroom, slowing unraveling the white fabric that covered his chest to soon reveal a bloodied, but healing scar. He traces the sweaty tips of his fingers across the thickened skin, barely being able to recognize his own body. He almost didn't understand. Thinking back on what he did, he couldn't find a rhyme nor reason to why he decided to mutilate his body. He doesn't even remember considering it a good idea. He only knew that he thought he needed to do it, so he did. 

But that wasn't the only thing on his mind. 

Last night's memories didn't escape his mind easily. Everytime he thought he could change the subject, it only reminded him of the subject and made him dwell. Everytime he thought about it, his opinion on the man shifted, no matter what truths he knew about him. He didn't want to like Dean, but his mind was playing tricks. Contorting his views into an idealistic hero. But he didn't want that, not after what he did to him years ago, so he tried to remind himself of who he was. 

Dean Ambrose was a bipolar, good-for-nothing, psychopath.

He knew it for years, but now, he doesn't feel it. He was only the man who saved Seth twice.

***  
Dean stumbled down the streets, bottle of rum straped between his fingers tightly. He took swigs every so often. Nicolette was sound at home, passed out on the couch from studying so hard for her exam. He was glad to know this though. At least he knew she would be safe at home while he left to forget about the world. 

He happens upon a collection of trees. He didn't even bother to think about any consequences of getting lost in the woods he'd come across, he just entered, swinging his half empty bottle to his lips. 

It was dark and gloomy, the canopy shaded the floor from moonlight, making it darker than the deepest night. He fumbled around, praying not to fall into a tree or bush and to stay safe from anything that could kill him. 

This walk continued until he blindly kicks a log, making him tumble over. 

"Shit!" He exclaimed, hearing not only his body curl around the dead wood, but a startled, alerted voice as well. Looking over, he sees the one man that he cant seem to escape no matter how much he tried. Hell, it's like Seth might as well be married to him. It was honestly astonishing to him how many times he has had to see his face lately. 

"Oh, it's just you." He saw Seth scoff and cross his arms. He sneers at the saracstic undertones of his statement and sits up, grabbing his still, somehow, full bottle of rum. 

"Greetings, dickwad." He tipped the bottle in a cheersy type way before narrowing his eyes and taking a small sip. Seth didn't dare take a closer look. His view was blurred due to the dark of night, and he wanted to keep it that way. He didn't want to look Dean in the eyes, they'd only do their magic on him and turn him into the hero Seth desperately didn't want him to be. Seth didn't want to forgive Dean. 

"Why are you here?" Dean added on, finding Seth's silence disturbing. 

"Why are you?" Seth shot back, knowing he didn't exactly have an answer to tell him. 

"I got a bottle of rum and whiskey from my cabinet and decided to walk until I hated my legs. Now answer my question."

"I don't have to do anything for you." Seth muttered only loud enough to be heard over the singing of the midnight crickets. 

"Its the least you could do for me." Dean shrugged and sat himself in a comfortable position on the log he just fell over. 

"Bandages don't make you entitled to knowing why I do things." Dean nods in agreement before looking down at his knees to think for a moment. 

"But shooting down a man that was trying to kill you probably is worth something, right?" He asked, on lying turning his eyes to look at the silhouette of Rollins. Seth dug his heel into the soft dirt and stiffened his jaw. 

"Not when you did something much worse to me, Ambrose. Not then." 

"I'm sorry, I didn't know this was pity wars!" He stood up abruptly, raising his voice, frustrated. Seth shook his head and looked the other way, knowing there was no good way this encounter could go. 

"You did something irreversible to me, but you don't see me being a bitch about a simple fucking question!" He yelled loud enough to make some of the birds flee from their nest to escape the noise. 

"Framing an innocent man isn't irreversible, either..." Seth said firmly, taking a step or two toward Dean. He didn't like to think about it, but being here made it hard. 

"You weren't innocent, you bitch. You killed my wife." Seth's face dropped and he froze after hearing the statement. Many things passed through his mind, but mostly the day he knew both of them were speaking off. 

●●●

Seth was tired of standing in line, but it was one of the worst days to be at the bank, especially during tax return season. A man in front of him stood with his wife, busy on his phone with his hand around her waist. 

Dangerously bored, he looked around the bank. Seeing a group of men outside preparing to walk in. Nervous, he looked back to the front of the line. Before he could even look back one more time, the men had already run in demanding for no one to move or they would be shot. Seth and a couple other people, including the woman in front of him had no where to go but to stand there as the joint got shot up. Her husband was somewhere hidden, but she nor he could see where. 

It didn't take long for one of the  robbers to eyes his pistol onto him. He panicked and didn't know what to do, but just as he heard the trigger pull back, he instinctively grabbed the woman and hid behind her, allowing her to take his fall. He couldn't even process what he had done while he scrambled away to safety, avoiding any other bullets shot his way. 

●●●

"I didn't kill her Dean!"

"I saw you with my own two eyes! My child....our child dead because you didn't want to take a bullet meant for you. You were responsible for the death of an innocent pregnant woman, and she was the only woman I had ever loved. You should be at my feet begging for forgiveness everyday of your fucking life because you ruined mine." Seth could feel his lip tremble as he took in Dean's words. He never wanted to think about that day because ever since the shock wore off, he repressed the memory just so he could get through the day. For the first few days, he'd cry until his eyes grew weak because of the emense grief and regret he felt, but it was obviously no where near what Dean felt, and it saddened him to say the least. 

Dean was right, he did kill her, or was at least responsible for it. 

"Dean..." Seth walked closer, tears filling up his waterbeds. 

"Don't say one more word to me-" he interrupted, pushing Seth away so he stumbles back. By now, he felt completely sober. He knew what he was doing, no effects of the rum applied now. 

"You think me telling the police you killed my wife in an armed robbery was a lie? I did nothing but tell the truth, the law just went with it cause I was the only man to come forward with an evidence of a distict criminal that day. I didn't tell them you robbed the place or that you were working for them, I simply said what actually happened. And if you think that is what framing is, you better pick up a fucking book." Dean turned around before he burst into tears, not wanting the man he hated most in this world to see him weak.  

A gust of wind hit him suddenly, making his tears blow clearly with the wind before it decided to blow in a different direction. He sobbed softly into his hands, cursing to himself when it got too loud for his liking. Seth couldn't do much but stand there, wanting to do something not knowing what. He was never the comforting type, in fact, he was usually the one being comforted. 

"Look I don't really know what to say." 

"A good sorry would suffice." He whipped his head around and sighed, exposing his tear painted face. Seth sighed as well, but his of his sorrow for what he never realized. Seth felt like pure shit. 

But he didn't know Dean or whoever his wife was. He knew nothing about these strangers but one day he suddenly was the enemy of one because he was too pussy to take a bullet. He was a pussy, maybe even the definition. 

"I'm sorry, okay!" He cried, silently the torment raged in his head. All those years that passed by him flew around in his head like flies. 

"I'm sorry I let my instincts take over and used whatever I could to protect myself! Sorry I never thought about who that woman was to someone! I am so fucking sorry for everything I have done in my life leading up to this moment because you're absolutely right, Dean. I should have been dead a long time ago." Dean only had processed bits of pieces of what Seth said, ADHD and a mix of emotional detriment messing with his head. 

"She wasn't just a woman, Seth..." The Latino man stared at Dean, surprised but his suddenly soft tone. 

"Her name was Renee Ambrose-Young. The woman I feel in love with in high school. A valedictorian, the president of the Mathletes, Creative Writing Club, and Future Leaders of America Club. She was a woman I built my life with. The woman I had been through everything with... The woman who gave me my daughter for godsake!" He ended his monologue with an exasperated whimper. Seth stared down at his feet and held back tears but it was obvious by his loud, shaking breathing that he would break any moment. 

"But I don't have her anymore and without her, I'm lost in this world. My daughter hates my guts nowadays, my job is close to laying me off even if they pretend it's all alright. I feel like I'm losing my fucking mind more and more everyday, Seth." Now, Dean hadn't even held back. It was a full on sob-fest for him. His cheeks were tinted red and wet with streaming tears; his knees on the brink of collapsing under his weight and his lip trembling uncontrollably. He had already broken down and there was no going back. 

"I just need something secure in my life." He huffed and and fell down to sit on the log, grabbing the bottle of rum again and downing it with a swift chug. Seth decides to take a leap of faith and sits beside the mess of a man, resting a hand on his back, rubbing soft circles into his skin through the thin fabric of his shirt. 

"Uh- do you want a hug, man?" He offered awkwardly, a few straggling tears rushing down his cheeks but quickly evaporating into the cool early autumnal night. Without saying a word, Dean tackles Seth, but for the first time in their lives, it was for a warm hug. 

Seth wraps his arms around Dean as the Dean buries his face into Seth's neck, continuing to sob profusely into his skin. 

"I miss her." He whispered softly between cries. 

"I know.... I would too, Dean."


End file.
